


sending . . .

by oh_no_oh_dear



Series: tungle dot hell [16]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sam Wilson-centric, blame Marvel for that one y'all, frenemies to lovers, with a dash of angst at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 14:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14499033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_no_oh_dear/pseuds/oh_no_oh_dear
Summary: Prompt: “Bucky texting photos of birds to Sam being like U know this guy?? dumb bullshit like that”SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T HECKIN' SEEN INFINITY WAR YETJust at the end, but a heads up.Sam and Bucky and the wonders of technology.





	sending . . .

**Author's Note:**

> Again, SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN INFINITY WAR YET. Ya been warnt.

  
Sam just barely heard the little _blip_ of an incoming message over his rasping breath, hunched awkwardly as he was in a tree. Ha ha. Falcon in a tree. That hadn’t been funny 4 hours ago and it wasn’t funny _now_ , Steve. Stakeouts sucked and Steve sucked and the Avengers sucked.   
  
Sam cautiously tapped the screen on his arm bracer, careful not to rustle the foliage because the super-sensitive surveillance equipment would pick it up and then he’d be full of tranquilizer darts real quick. Which would suck.  
  
Speaking of things that sucked…  
  
Sam saw Barnes’ message at the same time a bead of sweat dripped into his eye, which just added to the general suckiness of the day.  
  
 **b.b >> steve says youre in a tree  
b.b >> r u still in the tree  
b.b >> its funny because you are a bird**  
  
Sam moved his lips, knowing that the transcribing software would still pick up his reply to Barnes:  
  
 **s.w. >> ur not funny  
s.w. >> this is supposed to be emergency channel only  
  
b.b >> dont get ur feathers ruffled**  
  
It took all of Sam’s willpower not to heave a sigh. And then it turned out that it didn’t even matter how quiet he was, because little droids with heat sensors had been tracking him for hours while the guards were pinpointing his exact position.  
  
 _Fuck was I up in this tree for, then?_   
  
    “Halt! You’re surroundaauuUUUGH–” the man who had been shouting at him made a horrible gagging sound as the little disc that Sam tossed at him hit him right in the mouth. And then shocked the hell out of him. From the inside.   
  
    “Oh, _fuck_ ,” Sam grimaced. His aim had been a little too good on that one. The guard’s partners seemed to share Sam’s sentiment, looking down at their stricken companion with stunned silence.   
  
    “I quit,” one of them said in a shaking voice. Sam activated his stealth wings and glided down to the ground with his weapons drawn, just in case.   
  
   “But you can’t quit! We’re willing to sacrifice everything to further our research--” another guard was sputtering furiously.  
  
    “I didn’t see that in the fine print,” the first person spoke. She had a faint Eastern European accent and was a full head shorter than the other guards.   
  
    “Uh,” Sam interjected. The guards looked up from their companion, who was groaning faintly now. They’d clearly forgotten about Sam for a second, which was frankly offensive. He was a goddamn Avenger.   
“Okay, we can do this the easy way…”  
  
    “I choose the easy way,” the short woman said immediately. She held up her hands in surrender, ignoring the sounds of protest from the others.   
“Hey, do _you_ want to get electrocuted in the mouth? If you do, feel free to fight this man. I’ve got other plans.”  
  
There was an awkward pause, during which the man on the ground motioned that he too was giving himself up. Sam couldn’t blame the guy. The lone dissenter wasn't going to make this easy, though.  
  
    “Well... you’re a traitor! Both of you! I’m going to report you to headquarters, and–”  
  
    “Ahhh, _shaddap_ Larry. This was just to get a course credit for my fucking biology degree anyway,” another guard snapped. Larry watched mulishly as the other A.I.M. guards gave themselves up and Sam fitted them with special range-based cuffs (if they got too far away from Sam, they’d get a little shock).   
  
Sam had been doing this long enough that he was unsurprised when Larry charged him with a nasty-looking stun baton of some kind. Larry, on the other hand, was wholly surprised to find himself in the Falcon’s grip as he was vaulted head over ass during Sam’s impressive airborne backflip. And then Larry was dropped ignominiously on his ass.   
  
The man must have been pretty unpopular, because the other guards snickered. A couple even applauded as best they could with the cuffs on.   
  
    “Okay, enough,” Sam said. He gestured towards a path through the trees, where he knew vehicles were waiting to pick them up.   
“Hey–” he stopped the guard who had claimed they’d been in this for the course credit. “Were you serious? This was for a college degree?”  
  
“Yeah,” the young man muttered, clearly embarrassed. “I’m thinkin’ I need to change schools.”   
  
***  
  
After less than 10 minutes of fairly uneventful walking, Sam was watching the guards get chivvied into vans that may or may not have once belonged to S.H.I.E.L.D. Larry turned to scowl one more time at Sam, but then he looked outraged.   
  
    “Wait, what about h–” his shout was cut off by the satisfying _clunk_ of the van doors, and Sam turned to the short female guard who was still standing beside him.   
  
    “What’s with that Larry guy, anyway?” he asked as he keyed in the code to release her cuffs. Natasha rubbed her wrists where the skin was still tingling and scoffed.   
  
    “He was probably the only one in the group that actually believed in A.I.M.’s goals,” she said.   
“The others were there for summer internships, mostly.”  
  
    “Summer internships. With an evil scientific organization.” Sam’s voice was flat as he offered Nat a bottle of water from his pack. She took a long drink and sighed before answering him.   
  
    “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a job nowadays, Wilson?”  
  


* * *

  
**b.b >> u alive??  
b.b >> steves askin  
b.b >> i dont care lol**  
  
Sam opened one bleary eye, wondering why the sunlight was so _loud_. Based on the distressed sound Nat made as she rolled over and got an eyeful of sunlight, she was just as hungover as he was.   
  
    “Your phone is making noise, Wilson.”  
  
    “ _You’re_ making noise, Nat,” Sam groaned. An unfortunate side effect of their close friendship was that on occasion one of them would have a stupid idea like Let’s Rent Bad Movies and mix it with another stupid idea like Let’s Also Do Shots Every Time Something Hilariously Bad Happens In These Movies. And there was no one around to stop them, because they were ostensibly _adults._   
  
Nat was down one very expensive bottle of vodka, Sam’s excellent Caribbean rum had been generously splashed into their 2am rum and cokes, and they were both wishing for death now that it was almost midday.   
  
**s.w. >> y u gotta text so loud  
  
b.b. >> ??  
  
s.w. >> hungover [skull emoji]  
  
b.b. >> LOL  
b.b. >> ur too old to drink   
  
s.w. >> go fck urself**  
  
    “Your li’l friend is laughing at our misfortune,” Sam groaned at his comrade-in-suffering. Nat shifted to look at Sam’s phone screen before grabbing the phone and sending a short voice message that was in Russian and definitely didn’t sound like _“Have a lovely day, my dearest friend”_ from her tone.  
  
b.b. >> sam that was so mean  
b.b. >> tell nat i dont have a big head  
b.b. >> sam?  
  
Sam and Nat were already deep in the loose-limbed sleep of people who had had entirely too much to drink the night before, and Sam’s phone was definitely on silent. Nat snored like a freight train and Sam drooled all over his pillow. It was the best weekend either of them had had in _months._   
  


* * *

_   
**b.b. wants to send you a file.**   
  
_ **s.w. >> barnes wtf is that  
s.w. >> it better not be a dick pic  
  
b.b. >> . . .   
  
_b.b. has canceled file.  
_  
s.w. >> WHAT THE FUCK  
  
b.b. >> im joking im joking   
b.b. >> its a cool bird i saw  
  
s.w. >> arent u on recon? how u got time to be a nature photographer?  
  
b.b. >> im bored  
  
s.w. >> omfg go bother steve  
  
b.b. >> i already did :(  
  
s.w. >> jfc just send the damn bird pic  
  
 _b.b. wants to send you a file._  
 _File transferring . . . done!  
_  
s.w. >> o wait thats actually fuckin dope  
s.w. >> do u know what kind of bird it is  
  
b.b. >> nah  
b.b. >> i was hoping u tell me  
  
s.w. >> lol idk  
  
b.b. >> is that the scientific name?  
  
s.w. >> no, that would b _nescium whatitis  
_  
b.b. >> oh ok  
b.b. >> cool**   
  
Sam waited as he finished wiping the motor oil off his hands and folded his wings into their pack. 3… 2… 1…   
  
**b.b. >> fuck u wilson  
b.b. >> thats not even how latin works  
  
s.w. >> [laughing emoji]  
  
b.b. >> ‘i don’t know what it is’ is not a species  
  
s.w. >> [laughing emoji]**   
  


* * *

_   
**b.b. wants to send you a file.**   
  
_ **s.w. >> . . .  
  
b.b. >> its not a dick pic just accept it  
  
s.w. >> [thinking emoji]  
  
b.b. >> wait what  
  
 _File transferring  . . . done!  
_  
b.b. >> sam what did [thinking emoji] mean  
  
s.w. >> purple and yellow AND green  
s.w. >> this bird = fashion forward  
  
b.b. >> sam why did you use [thinking emoji]  
b.b. >> ~~do you… want a dick pic?  
~~  
 _b.b. has deleted message._ **   
**  
s.w. >> i saw that  
  
b.b. >> saw what  
  
b.b. >> what’s the scientific name of that bird  
  
s.w. >> phylum is _flyasfuck_.   
  
b.b. >> LOL  
  
s.w. >> they go to ny fashion week for birds  
  
b.b. >> i have no idea what ur talking about  
  
s.w. >> thats because u think wearing teal and mustard is acceptable  
  
b.b. >> that was once   
b.b. >> ONCE  
  
s.w. >> lol ok radio silence, on a mission. l8r  
**   
Bucky put down his communicator and knocked back the rest of the deliciously spicy tea that the server had put in front of him some time ago. Across from him, Steve was doing a poor job of pretending he wasn’t laughing into his stupid beard. It wasn’t that Bucky  _ liked  _ Wilson or anything. It’s just that the guy was funny sometimes, so it was fun texting him. He avoided thinking too hard about that weird dick pic thing. Or rather, he tried. It was just that… well, what  _ did _ that thinking emoji mean? Bucky would never send – well, he’d never been  _ asked _ – and Wilson was clearly joking anyway, so he should just forget about it. He was just hot in the face because it was a humid day.   
  
And shut up,  _ Steve.  _ If he went on long walks through the local forests just to try to get pictures of cool-looking birds so that he’d have something to talk to Sam about… well. Whatever.   
  
Anyway, he had work to do. There had been some murmurs of Hydra-like activity near the Ethiopian/Wakandan border, and if Bucky wanted to have enough time to take them out  _ and _ take a bird picture for Sam he needed to get a move on. No,  _ Steve _ , he wasn’t going to call Sam. He was busy. They were both busy men.   
  
Bucky Barnes was an adult, he didn’t get  _ crushes _ . No. You– shut up,  _ Steve _ , it’s hot okay? You’re red too. Sunburn, shmunburn. Okay, well see if he’d save you next time the world got invaded, you fucking jerk.   
  
Bucky steadily ignored the significant looks Steve gave him every time his device lit up with a message from  **_s.w._ ** , but his friend had the last laugh because he called right before his flight back to New York took off:   
  
_     “Before I take off, I just needed to know…” _   
  
    “What is it?” Bucky asked warily as he picked his way through the crowded airport back to the exit. He just knew Steve was about to be a shithead, he just  _ knew  _ it.   
  
_     “Are you  _ sure  _ you don’t want me to give Sam your love?” _   
  
    “I’m sure I want you to get the runs from airplane food again.”   
  
_    “Low blow.” _   
  
Bucky hung up, paused, and tapped out a short message.   
  
**b.b. >> dont die  
  
s.r. >> [thumbs up emoji]**   
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
**s.r. >> hey sam did you know buckys got it bad for you?  
  
b.b.>> . . .   
  
s.r. >> oops! wrong conversation  
  
b.b.>> ur not funny  
  
s.r.>> im old and i dont understand technology :(   
  
b.b.>>IM OLDER TAHN U  
  
** **s.r. >> have to turn off phone now :D**  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
**s.r. >> hey sam did you know buckys got it bad for you?  
  
s.w. >> what  
  
s.r. >> planes taking off now! turning off phone :D  
s.w. >> steve what  
s.w. >> STEVE  
s.w. >> i hope u eat bad airplane food again [middle finger emoji]**   
  
  


* * *

  
  
**_s.w. wants to send you a file.  
_  
b.b. >> ??  
  
s.w. >> just accept it   
  
b.b. >> extremely suspicious, wilson  
  
 _File transferring  . . . done!  
_  
b.b. >> is that a pigeon  
  
s.w. >> yes  
  
b.b. >> . . .  
  
s.w. >> an exotic bird from the far-off land of Calgary  
  
b.b. >> [laughing emoji]  
b.b >> y r u in canada  
  
s.w. >> cant tell u  
s.w. >> id have to kill you  
  
b.b. >> good luck w that  
  
s.w. >> watch youre back barnes  
s.w. >> your*  
  
b.b >> did they stop teaching grammar since i got frozen  
  
s.w. >> fuck you**   
  


* * *

  
  
Sam’s fingers crept towards his bandage, slowly and stealthily. Just one little scratch. It was so fucking itchy. Just one-  
  
 _“Don’t even think about it.”_  
  
Sam dropped his hand, scowling at his phone. The pixelated image of Bucky squinting somewhere to the left of the camera filled the screen; behind him was dark, but the rustle of the wind through trees filled Sam’s earbuds now and then. It sounded… peaceful.   
  
    “What time is it there?” Sam asked, more to distract Bucky long enough to be able to scratch under his bandage than anything else.   
  
_“Little after midnight.”_  
  
    “Kinda late for an old-timer to be up.”  
  
 _“Yeah. Good thing I’m younger than you, huh?”_  
  
    “I’m gonna hang up.”  
  
 _“‘D’you take your painkillers?”_  
  
    “One of us is medically trained, and it ain’t you, _White Wolf._ ”  
  
 _“So that's a no. I expect this kind of behaviour from Steve, but Sam...”_  
  
Sam fidgeted. He’d skipped his last few doses, because they made him groggy. Somewhere between awake and asleep, unable to defend himself if those assholes came back to finish off the job.   
  
Bucky could see by the bright afternoon sun filling Sam’s hotel room that the man hadn’t slept in too long. When Sam had been jumped by the agents trailing him, he’d been lucky to get out alive. Well. Lucky- _ish_. The deep cut trailing down his ribs said differently.   
  
_“Hey, I got an idea.”_  
  
    “Don’t pull a muscle, Barnes.  
  
 _“Shut up. Want me to keep watch?”_  
  
    “Come again?”  
  
 _“Set up the phone somewhere on a table or something. I’ll keep an eye out, you take a painkiller and get some shuteye.”_  
  
    “You want to watch me sleep?” Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow, even though the idea of getting some actual sleep sounded incredible.   
  
_“More like I want to make sure no one offs you in your sleep. I’m rethinking the offer now, though.”_  
  
Sam pondered for all of 5 seconds before grabbing a pill and downing it with a mouthful of lukewarm water from the glass on his bedside table.   
  
    “Just a couple hours, Barnes.”  
  
 _“Yeah, yeah.”_  
  
Sam considered mentioning how weird this was, but really? Truly? After all these years running alongside Steve fucking Rogers and the goddamn Avengers, this was positively quaint. Dawn was just breaking in Wakanda, and Sam could hear Bucky shuffling about outside. Somehow, the sounds of dirt scuffing underfoot and the distant crowing of roosters were more soothing than they had any right to be. The last thing Sam heard before finally drifting asleep was Bucky singing under his breath as he started his morning chores.   
  
  
  
  
Bucky kept a close eye on the faint projection of Sam’s room hovering in the air next to him. As he clicked his tongue to call the fat chickens that were still half-asleep under the biggest tree in the yard, Bucky could see Sam trying to fight the exhaustion, tossing and turning under his sheets. By the time Sam settled down and was snoring softly (which Bucky absolutely did not find charming), the sun was sinking behind the thin curtains. This was… kind of nice. Really nice, actually. He kind of liked the intimacy of Sam trusting him enough to sleep and‒ oh. Oh, _no._  
  
God fucking _damn_ it.  
  
  
  
  
Sam woke up feeling only 60% dead, which was a marked improvement from the day before. The warm air in the room had made him even more gross and sweaty in his sleep, though. Why did he have to throw his lot in with the Avengers when he was pushing 40? Couldn’t they have unfrozen Rogers when Sam was a boisterous 23 year old or something? He let out a pained breath when he bent carefully to pull off his boxers while minding his injury. _Shower, another painkiller, then dinner._   
  
Sam had almost finished applying a fresh dressing to his wound before he remembered that he hadn’t turned off his camera feed before stripping butt naked. He wasn't overly shy about nudity, but he still briefly considered throwing his phone in the toilet and changing his name.  
  
Sam hastily wrapped a towel around his waist and went to grab his phone as quickly as his injury would allow.   
  
**b.b >> WILSON   
b.b >> uh  
 _b.b. ended video call._   
b.b. >> uhhhh  
b.b. >> [blushing emoji]  
b.b. >> u didnt mean for me to see that right  
  
s.w. >> wtf do u think???  
  
b.b. >> of ur ass?  
  
s.w. >> NO  
s.w. >> i dont need ur input  
s.w. >> i know my ass is spectacular  
  
b.b. >> i hate when you’re right   
  
s.w. >> but srsly sorry for flashing u. forgot u were there  
  
b.b. >> ouch  
b.b. >> and dont worry about it  
b.b. >> i was the winter soldier  
b.b. >> ive seen things worse than your taint  
  
s.w. >> die  
  
b.b. >> [laughing emoji]**  
  


* * *

  
    “I don’t have strawberry jam,” Bucky said, gesturing to the simple cupboard behind him. On his large computer screen, Sam moved closer to see Bucky's kitchen better.    
  
_     “Did you make that thing yourself?” _ he asked teasingly. It was almost midnight where he was, so he was yawning more and more frequently. But it was a weirdly comforting ritual by now; neither of them ever thought to skip it if it could be avoided.   
  
Bucky glanced at the rough, lopsided wooden ‘bookcase’ where he kept his few cooking utensils and a ridiculous amount of spices that he was doing his best to use properly.    
  
    “How’d you guess?” he grinned. “It's not bad, considering.”   
  
_     “Considering…?” _   
  
     “Considering the having-one-arm thing, smartass.”   
  
_     “Oh. I thought it was considering that you’re a prissy city boy.” _   
  
    “I’m‒ what?!”   
  
_     “Steve’s words, not mine.” _   
  
    “Steve’s an  _ asshole. _ ”   
  
He was rewarded with a big laugh from his cooking companion and felt a little surge of pride like he always did when he made Sam smile. Bucky didn’t even pretend not to have a thing for Sam’s stupid little tooth gap anymore.    
  
_     “The cupboard looks good,” _ Sam said.  _ “Also, did you say you don’t have strawberry jam? What kind of heathen shit is that?” _   
  
    “I dunno, I like the local stuff better.”   
  
_     “La di  _ dah, _ Barnes. Too good for Smuckers?” _   
  
    “What makes you think they have Smuckers here?”   
  
_     “Point. You at least got milk? Like a normal person?” _   
  
    “Of course.”   
  
_     “Okay, good.” _   
  
    “It’s goat’s milk,” Bucky said cheerfully. “I milked Samantha this morning.”   
  
Sam sighed.  _ “Fuck you for naming your goat after me.” _   
  
Bucky winked and finished assembling his messy sandwich before easing into the simple wooden chair by the wobbly table that gave him splinters (a Bucky Barnes handmade specialty). He and Sam chatted and ate their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cackling at each others’ milk mustaches, and breathing the words  _ I miss you _ into the short silences between their quips. Having dinner with Sam was his favourite time of day. Even if it did happen in the afternoon for him.    
  
_     “So…” _ Sam drawled, pushing away his plate and steepling his fingers in a rare show of nerves.  _ “I got some free time coming up this weekend…” _   
  
Bucky’s pulse definitely didn’t kick up a few notches. Ahh, fuck it. It did.    
“Oh yeah?” He put his chin in his hand and tilted his head so that his hair fell across his face just so.   
  
_     “Oh, fuck off with that,” _ Sam laughed. Bucky scowled; he’d actually used that move to great success before.    
_ “You busy?” _   
  
    “What, this weekend?”   
  
_     “Yeah.” _   
  
    “Do I look like a busy guy to you?”   
  
Sam leaned in a little closer to his computer; Bucky instinctually mirrored his body language.    
  
_     “Do you want to be busy?” _   
  
    “That was cruddy.”   
  
_     “It’s after midnight and I just got back from a 3 week goose chase, man. My pickup lines ain’t great right now.” _   
  
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Trying to pick me up?”   
  
_     “Yeah. And not to be cocky, but you’ve been biting your lip since I said I had free time, so…” _   
  
Dammit.   
  
    “Yeah. Yeah, okay. You gotta do something for me, though.”   
  
_     “What?” _   
  
    “Bring me some strawberry jam?”   
  
_     “Ha! I knew it!” _   
  


* * *

  
Sam croaked his thanks to the flight attendants as he stumbled into the air conditioned hallway leading to the baggage claim. Thirty hours. Thirty hours and he’d lost track of the layovers. He’d used most of a pack of wet wipes and pretzeled himself in tiny plane washrooms  _ twice _ to change his shirt and boxers, just so he wouldn’t be a walking biohazard by the time he touched down in Addis Ababa. This is what he got for booking a flight to Ethiopia (the closest he could get to Wakanda) at the last minute. A thirty-goddamn-hour-flight. 

  
He sent a text to Nat and Steve letting them know he’d touched down safely. _hope the sex it worth it_ , Nat replied. Steve just sent about a dozen smirking face emojis.   
  
Why were his friends like this?  
  
***  
  
The taxi driver leaned back in his seat and raised his eyebrows quizzically. Sam was fumbling with his little notebook in which he’d scribbled useful phrases in various languages. Bouncing from country to country on Avengers business made it hard to keep track sometimes, so maybe Steve’s dorky little habit of writing everything down had rubbed off on Sam.   
  
    “Ahhh… a… good… ቡና ቤት (coffee shop)…?” he tried, knowing even as he spoke that he was butchering the pronunciation.   
  
The taxi driver, whose name plate declared him to be Khalid, grinned widely.   
    “I know where to go,” he said. Sam was equal parts relieved and miffed that the man correctly surmised that speaking to him in Amharic would be a lost cause. “You really need coffee,” Khalid added matter-of-factly.   
  
He was right, but _damn._  
  
***  
  
 **s.w. >> im at aster coffee shop near the airport. hurry up bcuz my data is gonna b destroyed  
  
b.b. >> use the wifi idiot  
  
s.w. >> o word  
s.w. >> in my defence i havent slept in 30 hours n i need coffee  
  
b.b. >> u just might be able to get coffee in a coffee shop [thinking emoji]  
  
s.w. >> [middle finger emoji]  
  
b.b. >> be there soon ;)**  
  
Sam navigated through ordering a coffee without falling asleep mid-sentence, and then sat at his table letting the rich aroma surround him. His stomach was churning. He felt… _nervous._ It wasn’t like it was his first time meeting Barnes. It wasn’t his first coffee date. But…  
  
But they’d been having dinner together almost every night for months, even though it was by Skype. And Bucky had named two chickens _and_ a goat after Sam (it started out as a joke and became something much more annoyingly adorable). And Sam always snuck texts to Bucky no matter where he was trudging in the world. And Bucky still sent him pictures of birds he thought Sam would like. And … Sam _missed_ him. Shit.   
  
    “You weren’t kiddin’ about the 30 hours, huh?” Bucky said from beside him. Sam jumped, spilling his coffee on his thumb and hissing in pain. Bucky grimaced apologetically as he slid into the seat across from Sam.   
“Sorry. I was standing there for a good 30 seconds, y’know.”  
  
Sam nodded a greeting, but he was busy trying to stop the caramel and whipped cream mess from dripping onto the table. Bucky intently watched as Sam thoughtlessly ran his tongue up the side of his hand before sucking the tip of his thumb into his mouth.   
“Mmm, caffeine. What? What is it?” Sam asked. Bucky blinked a few times.   
  
Sam’s phone buzzed just as Bucky opened his mouth to say something.  
  
 **s.r. >> rendezvous in Scotland in 28   
s.r. >> nat’s here already**  
  
 _Fuck._   
  
    “Listen, I gotta go in about… shit, 14 hours.”   
  
Bucky’s mouth turned down a little; Sam didn’t think he was even aware of it. It was fucking cute, is what it was.   
  
    “It’s gonna take at least 6 hours to get to my place in Wakanda,” Bucky said mournfully. That would barely leave them any time together.   
  
Sam heaved a sigh. Then, he cautiously inched his hand towards Bucky’s, slowly enough that the other man could pull away without it being too awkward. Instead, Bucky linked his pinky with Sam’s. _Fucking cute. God fucking fucking fucking dammit._  
    “I don’t wanna be forward…”  
  
    “I’ve been thinking of a subtle way to ask if you wanna go back to my place and fuck the entire weekend away, so… be forward, Wilson. Please.”  
  
Sam let out a hard breath.   
  
    “Hotel?”  
  
    “Hotel.”

 

* * *

  
**s.w. >> arrived in sctlnd  
s.w. >> sore af  
  
b.b. >> youre welcome [smirking emoji]  
  
s.w. >> fuck you  
  
b.b. >> hope so**   
  
    “All right, you two. Time to get in position,” Steve said quietly. His battered suit was the perfect camouflage, dark enough to blend into the grey shadows of the warehouse. Nat had already disappeared as soon as Steve had started talking, with a stoic nod towards the two of them. They'd been on dozens of stealthy little missions over the last couple years, but this time the tension spelled  _real._ No more wild goose chases. This was it.   
  
**s.w. >> gotta go   
  
b.b. >> dont die    
  
s.w. >> lol   
  
** **b.b. >> seriously**  
  
 **s.w. >> ok. **  
  
 **b.b. >> ok **  
  
Sam hesitated a minute and sent a heart emoji. He tucked his phone away before waiting for a response, because hell... it was now or never.   
  
Sam flipped his goggles over his face and took a few running steps to get airborne and patrol the city for the two Avengers. If their intel was right, there’d be some real fucking trouble coming.    
  
There was.    
  


* * *

  
Bucky’s back and thighs hurt a little during his morning chores the day after Sam took off, but it was a pleasant reminder of a whole night and half a day in a hotel bed watching Sam Wilson come apart under him. He absent-mindedly hoisted the hay for the goats into the pile, thinking of the the way Sam’s eyes glinted in the moonlight outside their window, back arched as they both almost sobbed with how good it was. The little pink heart emoji that Sam had sent him (and the one he'd sent in return) was a stupid thing to be excited about, but he'd allow himself this little bloom of happiness for once. He couldn’t wait to see Sam again, to get to hold him for more than a few hours, and to–   
  
Bucky squinted into the distance as several figures approached him. He recognized the smooth gait of the man to whom he owed his life, but T’Challa’s face was regretful as he and his assistants came closer.   
  
Bucky's eyes darted down to the box that they presented him. He knew what was in there. He’d known it might have come to this sometime. Damn. Fuck. He really thought… for a moment…   
  
  
**b.b. >> guess ill see u sooner than we thought huh  
  
s.w. >> yea :/  
  
b.b. >> shit  
  
s.w. >> lol u have no idea**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, Marvel, for ruining my life. :)


End file.
